"Twins?"
The word stumbled past Erin Volter's dry, trembling lips like a fragile glass marble dropping onto stone. She stared at the Doom Overseer, her green eyes wide with an erratic mixture of shock, confusion, and rising dread. "Are... are you saying I am going to have twins?"
The majestic teal beast did not immediately answer. It remained sitting in the center of her living room, its long, deep-blue ribbon antlers swaying in a gentle, non-existent breeze. Its emerald eye held a profound, ancient calm that contrasted sharply with Erin's spiraling panic.
Slowly, the Overseer shook its heavy head.
"No, Erin Volter," the beast's harmonious telepathic voice vibrated gently within her mind. "They are not twins. They shall not share the same birth. They will be born under different skies, in different times, bound by a single destiny."
The declaration hung in the quiet air of the wooden house like a heavy fog.
"Not... not twins?" Erin whispered, her voice barely audible.
